


Latency

by Hawkefeathers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Canon-Typical Violence, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Deaf Clint Barton, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Protective Steve Rogers, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 09:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6748822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkefeathers/pseuds/Hawkefeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How the hell had it all come to this? In some part of his mind he’d known that it would all go to shit someday, but he thought they’d have a bit more time before everything started falling apart. He’d let himself get too complacent, too relaxed. And now here he was, struck dumb at the sight of Bucky with his metal arm locked around Tony Stark’s throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How did we get here?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at Avengers fiction so hopefully this all works out okay. This is set after CA:TWS and diverges from canon after that, so it's not compliant with IM3 or AoU. Unsure if I'll have the Ant-Man film included at some point. Thanks to my beta Vei for helping me make sure this was ready to post, and also for their enthusiasm over the whole thing! 
> 
> You can also check me out at hawkefeathers.tumblr.com if you'd like to discuss the fic!

How the hell had it all come to this? In some part of his mind he’d known that it would all go to shit someday, but he thought they’d have a bit more time before everything started falling apart. He’d let himself get too complacent, too relaxed. And now here he was, struck dumb at the sight of Bucky with his metal arm locked around Tony Stark’s throat. 

Clint had been prepared for all sorts of emergencies when JARVIS had woken him, but he hadn’t expected anything like this when he’d entered the kitchen on the communal floor. Tony, eyes wide with barely restrained panic, was held firmly against Bucky’s chest with the very arm that the engineer had so admired. Bucky’s other arm was hidden behind Tony’s back, but if the look on Steve’s face was anything to go by, there was likely a knifepoint digging into his skin. The overwhelming scent of terrified omega only served to back up this assumption. 

_How the fuck is this my life?_

Steve was inching forward slowly while trying to look non threatening- not an easy task for an alpha of his size... Even if he _was_ clad only in an old tee shirt and a ragged pair of sweats. “Bucky, hey. Easy. Let him go, alright? It’s just Tony. You’re in Avengers Tower. You’re safe.” The lines were smooth, practiced. In the beginning, when Steve had first brought a resistant Bucky back to the tower, he’d had plenty of opportunities to use those words. Long nights when the former assassin had difficulty distinguishing between _then_ and _now_.

But Clint had thought they were getting past that. These days, he shared a bed with Bucky for fuck’s sake (and wasn’t that a hell of a story in and of itself). It had been months since Bucky had had an incident like this. The odd nightmare, sure, but that was par for the course when you’d seen the types of things that they had. _Why hadn’t he seen this coming?_

The thing that was really bothering the archer was the look in Bucky’s eyes. This wasn’t the same wide-eyed stare the alpha got in those moments where he suddenly lost the plot and couldn’t remember where he was. There was cold calculation there, no sign of hesitation. These were the eyes of the Winter Soldier.

It was with a sick sense of dread that Clint realized what was about to happen.  
Between one breath and the next, Tony’s eyes widened and he let out a small pained noise. A moment later Clint could smell the coppery tang of blood. Steve surged into motion as Bucky shoved Tony forward and took off, and the super-soldier gently lowered the wounded inventor to the ground. Clint dropped down next to him and stripped off his shirt to press it against the wound on Tony’s back.

“Go, Cap. I’ve got Tony and you know JARVIS called for help the second shit went down.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bruce hurrying towards them and he nodded. “Get Bucky. Keep him from…” Hurting himself? Hurting someone else? God, he didn’t know.

The look on Steve’s face was pained. It was obvious that he wanted to stay with Tony, to make sure his omega was going to be alright. But he knew that they couldn’t let Bucky take off and with both Thor and Natasha out of the tower he was the best choice. He nodded, determination hardening his features. “Understood. Thanks, Clint.” Then he was gone, and Clint idly wondered how me managed not to wipe out on the smooth floor in his socked feet. 

He didn’t realize he had zoned out until he felt Bruce gently nudging him to the side. The scientist’s hands were steady as he checked Tony’s pulse and he didn’t seem to be too worried, but if anyone was good at masking their emotions it was Bruce. Clint, on the other hand, felt like he was going to hurl. It was one thing to see your comrades injured on assignment or while taking down bad guys, it was another to see them downed by one of their own. 

Bruce’s gentle voice once again pulled him out of his daze. “It looks like the knife missed his spine, so there’s one thing we don’t have to worry about. I’d feel better if he was awake but I’ll take what I can get at the moment. SHIELD can’t be too far out.” Bruce seemed every bit the calm beta, but Clint could see the faintest hint of green around his pupils. Clint had to admire his restraint. Tony and Bruce had become nearly inseparable since the team started. If it were Nat in Tony’s place…

Best not to think about that.

“Clint. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t go down that road. Right now Tony needs you-” Bruce was cut off by a loud crash and a muffled shout. Steve’s voice. “On second thought, Steve probably needs you more right now. On three! Move your hands and I’ll take over!” 

Clint was so startled by the sudden change in tone that he nearly missed his cue. The moment he was sure Bruce’s hands were firmly in place he took off. He nearly lost his footing as he tore around the corner but he didn’t stop. The noises were growing louder the closer he got to the end of the hall. _The elevators. Of course he went for the elevators._ And from the sound of things, Steve had barely gotten there in time to stop him. 

Clint slid to a stop just in time to see Steve get flipped onto his back. The soldier barely had time to blink before Bucky was on him, knife at the ready and still no sign of recognition in his eyes. Clint burst into motion as the knife came down and threw himself at Bucky, locking one arm around his chest and the other around his neck in a choke-hold. It took everything he had to pull the assassin back and hold him in place. He knew he would be feeling the strain in his arms and back for a long time. Not knowing what else to do, Clint started talking. 

“C’mon, Bucky. How about we lose the knife and go back to watching those ridiculous Mission Impossible movies you seem so fixated on. I still swear that guy looks nothing like me.” He wasn’t so sure why _that_ was the topic he landed on, but he’d roll with it. Bucky had once told him after he’d help bring him out of a particularly bad panic attack that it wasn’t the words that mattered, but the sound of his voice. Something to ground him. 

“I mean his nose is all wrong and he fills out a suit way better-” Sharp pain suddenly lanced up his side and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. It took him a moment to even figure out what had happened; Bucky had rammed his metal elbow into his ribs with a frightening amount of force in an attempt to knock him loose. And it almost worked. But Clint managed to grit his teeth and hold on. His next sentence came out in a pained wheeze. “I still... think my ass looks better, though.” 

Another jolt sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest, and a third was accompanied by the sickening sound of ribs giving way. Dimly Clint was aware of Steve trying to hold the metal arm in place and failing. Clint fought to hold on, spouting whatever nonsense he could think of and hoping that it would pull Bucky out of whatever this was. This wasn’t like the panic attacks that had him wide-eyed and jumping at shadows or the nightmares that left him yelling himself hoarse. This was more like the single-minded determination he’d seen in the footage from the DC incident. _Like he was programmed to attack…_

His train of thought was abruptly cut off as a final solid blow to the ribs caused him to lose his grip. There was no time to catch a breath before his back hit the floor and the Winter Soldier was on him. The last thing he saw as consciousness left him was a flash of bloodied steel as the knife came down.


	2. It's getting harder and harder to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer to get out than I hoped, but hopefully you guys like it!

Consciousness came back to him slowly. He was dimly aware of someone gripping his shoulder and giving him a light shake, likely an attempt to rouse him. He thought they might be saying something but he couldn’t hear anything but the dull rumble of their voice. He’d only managed to get in one of his hearing aids when JARVIS had woken him earlier. The AI’s message had sent him bolting down the hall and he'd forgotten about the second aid. He'd somehow lost the one he'd managed to grab. What the hell happened? Something about Tony being in trouble? About Bucky…

_Bucky!_

Clint surged upright and immediately regretted it when his ribs _screamed_ in protest. He had to admit that probably wasn’t his brightest idea when he curled in on himself, feeling a large hand rubbing comforting circles across his shoulders. Definitely busted, and definitely more than one. Cracking one eye open, he turned to see who would touch a bonded omega so openly and was met with the sight of a disheveled Bruce. The beta had definitely looked better and the bloodstains on his shirt and hands were a clear reminded of what had started this whole mess. They were sitting on the floor, right where Clint had blacked out earlier. 

When Bruce started speaking Clint attempted to follow the motions of his lips but it was too difficult in his muddled state. With a sigh, he motioned to his ear with the arm that wasn’t holding his busted ribs in place. “Sorry. I think my aid got knocked out. I can’t hear shit.”

Bruce’s wince told him that he’d probably yelled at least part of that. The scientist scanned the floor around them, obviously looking for the missing aid and thankfully finding it not far from where Clint’s head had hit the floor. Pausing long enough to get permission, Bruce carefully set the aid back in Clint’s ear and all at once the archer was assaulted by a whirlwind of sound. People barking orders, boots scuffing across the floor, the unmistakable whine of a quinjet either landing or taking off. And Bruce’s voice, trying so hard to keep in control. “Clint. Are you alright? Talk to me.” 

Clint turned dazed eyes away from the chaos around them and back to Bruce, whose eyes were definitely not that green yesterday. “If you mean ‘okay’ as in ‘not full of holes’ then I think so, yeah.” And considering the last thing he remembered before blacking out, that was nothing short of a miracle. A thrill of fear suddenly ran up his spine. “Wait. Why aren’t you with Tony? Where is he? And _Steve_? _Oh my god, where is Bucky_?!”

He tried to push himself up and onto his feet and the effort nearly caused him to black out again. Black spots danced at the edge of his vision as he sagged against Bruce, wondering how the man had kept his cool through this whole thing. “Easy, Clint. They’re...well I don’t want to say okay exactly because I don’t know, but they’re safe. Steve got pretty beat up but he’ll be good as new by the end of the week. And Tony, well…” The pinched expression on his face couldn’t mean anything good.

“He was loaded into a quinjet the second SHIELD got here. It could be a while before we know for sure. It looked pretty bad, but until we know what the knife hit we won’t really know how bad it is.” The beta chuckled humorlessly. “I wish I could say more, but I’m not that kind of doctor.” 

Clint swallowed thickly. Steve might be physically okay, but with Tony in such bad shape he was going to be a mess. And it was his best friend that had struck the blow. “...and what about Bucky?”

Bruce sighed. “When SHIELD got here he and Steve were still fighting. They had some sort of sedative or nerve agent or something. Dropped him like a stone.” At Clint’s alarmed look, the beta quickly rushed on. “But he’s okay! Just knocked out. They think it’ll keep him down long enough for him to be... _contained_.” And god, did Bruce hate that word. Even though he knew it was necessary. He also hated how lost Clint looked. 

“Right now, let’s get you on the next quinjet and get you checked out, alright?”

\-------------------------------------------

Clint didn’t remember much of the ride over. It was mainly due to being stuck in his own head and also whatever drug the field medic had given him to take the edge off the pain until they could get to the hospital. His whole body felt like one massive bruise and he was stuck trying to figure out how the hell this all happened. Last night they’d been fine. More than fine! He and Bucky had been piled in the common living room with Steve, Tony, and Bruce watching lame 80’s action movies and tearing them apart. Tony had surprised them all by suggesting it, saying it was his way of celebrating the news that former senator Stern had been sentenced to life in prison thanks to the mountain of evidence that had piled up after the HYDRA fiasco. The inventor had been positively gleeful at the announcement as they’d watched the newscast, and even the few parting jibes Stern had gotten in before the cameras cut weren’t enough to dampen his mood. 

So movies with the guys, mind blowing sex with Bucky afterwards, and then the next thing he knew JARVIS had been flashing the lights at him in his room to wake him up and tell him that Bucky was holding Tony at knife-point. He still couldn’t figure out how they’d gone from point A to point B. Was he missing something…?

“-int. Hey, Clint. Are you with me, buddy?” 

Things suddenly snapped back into focus and Clint realized that he was standing in a sterile white hallway with Steve _Fucking_ Rogers staring at him like he was afraid he would keel over. He was vaguely aware of Bruce’s steadying hand against his back. _Holy shit. When did I get here? How long have I been standing here spacing out?_

The archer cleared his throat awkwardly, wincing at a strange feeling of discomfort in his throat. “Yeah. Just... processing, y’know? Not every day your mate goes on a rampage and stabs one of your friends in the back.” He knew the moment the words left his mouth that that was an awful thing to say. The lines around Steve’s eyes deepened at the reminder that his best friend was the reason his mate was in the hospital. Clint found himself once again cursing at the fact that he often spoke without thinking. “Shit, man. Ignore me. That was a totally fucked up thing to say.”

Steve sagged slightly and shook his head. “It’s alright, Clint. It is a lot to deal with right now.” That was the understatement of the century. Bruce was the only one in their small group that hadn’t been injured in some way, though Steve would be healed up before long. Clint could see some nasty bruising on his face and some cuts along his arms from the knife, but otherwise nothing too serious. Compared to Steve, he felt like a total wreck and that was just from an elbow to the ribs. 

Steve must have been assessing him too. It was at that moment that Clint remembered giving his shirt to Bruce in an effort to stop Tony from bleeding out. He looked down and saw that the left side of his torso was covered in deep purple bruises from the blows to his ribs. So he obviously looked as bad as he felt. “Tony is in surgery now. And I think it’s time you get looked at. Those ribs are definitely broken and that bruising around your throat looks pretty painful too.”

As much as Clint hated medical, he had to agree. He felt like a truck had run him over and he knew drawing his bow was going to be next to impossible for a while. _Wait, hold on_. “My throat? What the hell are you talking about?”

Steve shared a perplexed look with Bruce. “Clint. Your neck is all black and blue.” The supersoldier gestured at his own throat for emphasis. “You don’t feel that?” Steve pulled his phone from his pocket and any other time Clint would have been amused as he watched him try to figure it out, but then Steve was shoving the phone towards him with the selfie-cam on of all things. “Look.”

Clint’s eyebrows nearly drew up to his hairline in his confusion, but he gingerly took the phone and angled it so that he could see his neck. “What the fuck? When did _that_ happen?” His throat looked bruised and purple, not nearly as bad as his chest but still quite nasty. For a split-second he thought it was a trick of the light or dirt or something, but when he gently pressed his fingers against the skin he couldn’t fight back his wince. “ _What the fuck?!_ ” 

He didn’t see the alarmed look Bruce shot at Steve. “I thought it happened during the fight. I only got there after SHIELD showed up and took Tony. Are you saying you don’t remember this happening?” 

Clint sure as hell did not. He may have lost time between the quinjet and the hospital but he remembered the fight. Bucky had hit him several times in the ribs and knocked him down, but he didn’t remember this. He looked helplessly at Steve but the soldier shook his head.

“After he knocked you out I got him off of you before he could hurt you again. SHIELD showed up not too long after that. I don’t see when-” Steve cut himself off, the color draining from his face. “The bruises on your neck were already there when you showed up.” He’d been so focused on Tony and Bucky at the time that he’d barely spared a glance at Clint when he’d arrived to help. But there was no other time it could have happened, and those bruises definitely weren’t there the night before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, feel free to talk to me about the fic at hawkefeathers.tumbr.com!


End file.
